


in the darkness i will meet my creators

by fireofthestars



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireofthestars/pseuds/fireofthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in the darkness i will meet my creators, and they will all agree that i'm a suffocator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the darkness i will meet my creators

Elena wakes violently, calm blue waters pulsing behind her eyelids. She gasps, the taste of acrid lake burning in the back of her throat, as she takes in her surroundings.

The white bed, the oval mirror, the stuffed bear against her pillow. She’s in her bedroom.

But that’s not right, it can’t be right. She remembers the crash, hurtling into the lake. She remembers Matt’s lifeless body, remembers the fear pounding in her chest as she tried in vain to break the windows. She remembers Stefan, come to save her once again, and the look in his eyes right before he swam away without her. She remembers the exact moment that she decided she was done fighting death, the moment she relaxed and let the still blue arms of death take back what had always belonged there.

Realization thuds in her ears as her feet find the floor. There’s only one way she can still be here. She has to find Stefan, has to tell him she can’t go through with it.

She’s halfway down the steps when she hears her voice. Elena freezes, hope bubbling in her throat at the same time as a pit opens in her stomach. Because Jenna can’t be here, she can’t. Elena saw her die, brave and reckless, on a stone altar. Shaking her head, _Jeremy must be watching a home movie_ , Elena continues down the stairs. Jenna’s laugh echoes in her skull.

There’s a pair of Doc Martens on the mat in front of the door, and a black trench coat hanging in the hall. Pieces of the past that shouldn’t be here, that make her eyes burn with tears and her head swim with confusion.

As she turns the corner, she bumps into a body that is warm and soft, and as its arms encircle her she remembers a night at the cabin with Stefan, sniffing a delicate glass bottle. My mom’s perfume.

Elena jumps back as if burned, and meets the eyes of Miranda Gilbert. Soft brown eyes, so like her own. Her mother’s hand reaches out to brush her cheek and Elena jumps when it makes contact.

“Mom? You’re…really here?”

Miranda’s smile turns sad, but before Elena can ask why, another voice answers, “ _We’re_ not anywhere. You are.”

Elena cranes her neck to look behind her mother, and her hands come up to cover her mouth as she takes in the 5 familiar faces standing around the kitchen island. John. Grayson. Alaric. Jenna. Isobel. Faces that belong to the dead, faces she had resigned herself to never seeing again.

The realization hits her like a sledgehammer to the chest, knocking her breathless as tears roll down her cheeks. I’m dead. It’s finally over.

She looks into the eyes of her mother, she feels the touch of a hand on her face, and she smiles.


End file.
